


All We Seem To Do (Is Talk About Sex)

by sowish



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: F/F, i dont condone cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 22:06:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6772081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sowish/pseuds/sowish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lauren "comes" late at night and leaves faster than Normani can say "my shirt looks good on you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	All We Seem To Do (Is Talk About Sex)

It seemed almost normal, to have her Doc Martens lying near the doorstep, to see her wear my clothes and walk around my apartment in nothing but my shirt and socks. It seemed that the only time I ever saw her was when she had her rumpled hair and smeared lipstick, naked. It was normal for me to open my door to her and see emerald eyes consumed with lust. It was normal for us to have sex. It became normal for me to wake up next to made sheets and a note from her.

 

“Mani, you can’t tell anyone about this. Especially Camila.”

 

“I know. I won’t. I promise.”

 

And everything falls into place after it. She kisses my neck and sucks hard on it, tells me not to mark hers. And I don’t. She’s got a girlfriend she comes home to. She strips both of us, leaves crescent shaped marks on my hips. Her skin comes unblemished, but her cheeks are splotched red when she’s got a fistful of my hair and legs wrapped tight around my waist.

 

It seems that I’ve lost my friendship with her. We haven’t talked to each other or laughed together like we used to. It all seems to be about sex now.

 

~.~.~

 

Camila wasn’t all that bad. She was beautiful, by normal means. But the way Lauren looked at her said different. In her eyes, Camila was the sun and Lauren was the flower needing her to live. And she was funny, the way she cracked witty jokes and acted silly. She complemented Lauren effortlessly - wasn’t overbearing or underwhelming. She made Lauren happy, made her smile big and genuinely. I could tell Camila loved her; the look in her eyes was enough. Even if she hadn’t said it all, she showed it by holding her hand, or smiling at her when she spoke.

 

And that was cool to me.

 

I was alright with Camila and she was alright with me. But if only she knew what happens when Lauren disappears at night.

 

~.~.~

 

It’s ten o’ clock and there we were on the bed in my room, like clockwork. I was on top and I could hear her mumbling below me.

 

“Wait. Stop. I – We have to stop. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t have sex with you and come home in the morning and kiss her with you still on my lips.”

 

I was in too deep. Maybe after the third or fifth time of seeing her like this, I started dreaming about her long tresses and emerald eyes. I’ve been hearing the sound of her throaty voice bounce off my apartment walls even though she wasn’t there. My hands have been getting clammy, and my heart has been pounding irregularly against my rib cage. I imagine I look at her with moon eyes.

 

And I wasn’t alright anymore. I didn’t want Camila to have her, to hold her. I wanted it to be me. I wasn’t alright.

 

“Does she even take care of you the way I do?”

 

No response.

 

“Do I even stand a chance with you?”

 

She shakes her head definitely without hesitation.

 

“No.”

 

~.~.~

 

Lauren tells me later on that Camila wasn’t ready for sex. But Lauren is impulsive – never thinks, just does. She follows the first thought in her head and the throbbing between her legs. She tells me that she has needs and I just always happen to be there. I disregard the ache in my chest, let her words spin around and pollute my head.

 

“If you love her, why do you keep coming back to me?”

 

“Because I want you. I need you. Now.”

 

I couldn’t stop her. Wouldn’t stop her. Not with the way she looked at me so possessively. Not with the way she growled those words. Who am I to stop her?

 

And that night, we fucked. It never was anything more to Lauren. But to me they started becoming more. I started paying more attention to how her eyebrows furrowed and how she would twirl my hair when I kissed the insides of her thighs. I started following the heaves of her chest and the traces of her tongue. I started focusing on her rather than feeling what she was doing.

 

We never were anything more.

 

~.~.~

 

I’m at a bar, beer in front me. Condensation rings dampen the wood, the bartender shouts across the table. It’s been months and a lot has changed.

 

Lauren’s changed since I’ve last seen her. She’s gotten a piercing on her tongue. I bet it’s heaven kissing her, even more so than it was before. She’s still wearing her Doc Martens and high waisted shorts, still looks so good. Camila’s hand is still tucked in hers. Camila’s still the one she loves.

 

It seems that we’ve become strangers. She doesn’t knock on my door with hungry eyes. Doesn’t call. Somewhere stuffed in my drawer are the notes she’s left on my nightstand for me. I find myself scanning the curls and slants of her writing, reading into her words. I hear her voice whisper in my ear, and sometimes I feel her teeth sunk into my neck.

 

I regret washing my sheets. They don’t smell of her, just of detergent and musk.

 

But tonight she’s here. Tonight she makes eye contact with me. Only tonight does she walk over to me, alone and smiling small. Only tonight does she talk to me.

 

“Hey Normani.”

 

“Hey.”

 

“It’s been awhile.”

 

“Yeah. It has.”

 

She nods at my curtness. Understanding why. I can see somewhere in her eyes and her fidgeting hands that she was sorry. That she regretted ever coming to me that one night. I’m not so sure if I do.

 

“Anyways, it’s been nice seeing you. I hope you’re doing great.”

 

I nod, my eyes looking at anything but her. She sighs softly at me and walks back to a drunken Camila. I can only guess that she’s smiling, if the bounce and eagerness in her step is any hint. She still wraps her arms around Camila, still kisses her, let’s Camila leave a mark on her neck.

 

Later on in the night, a boy’s arm is wrapped around my shoulders, rough lips pressed against my neck, sucking hard. It doesn’t feel the same. Doesn’t set me on fire the way Lauren’s does. But Lauren’s got a girlfriend anyway.

 

And I’ve got a boyfriend anyway.

 

**Author's Note:**

> product of listening to the acoustic of sex too much. i hope yall enjoed this :))


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